


you turn me inside out.

by jupiterrism



Series: love is not for children [1]
Category: Bumilangit Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not Beta Read, They are teachers, males tag karakternya hue, possible comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27382252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiterrism/pseuds/jupiterrism
Summary: In which Hasbi is exasperated over Ganda Hamdan and said Ganda is talking and clearing misunderstandings after what seems like an eon.
Relationships: pre-Ganda Hamdan/Ghani Zulham
Series: love is not for children [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000269
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	you turn me inside out.

**Author's Note:**

> I MISS WRITING ABOUT THESE DUMB BOYESSSSSSSS clearly projecting what my perception of their relationship is but if joko anwar sees this (HI ABANG) i have my fingers crossed. anyway this is set in alternate universe and a talk in dc a while ago gave me the idea hehe

“You’re staring again,” Hasbi murmurs without looking up from the paper he’s currently grading. 

Ganda scoffs, reluctantly dragging his gaze away from Zulham. The man is wearing a long-coat in _August_ , no less, and how is he not drenched in sweat? The coat is blown to a side, exposing a fit, white shirt, and Ganda feels hot all over at the sight. “I am not,” he huffs, but judging from the way Hasbi arches an eyebrow at him, the younger man doesn’t believe him. “I am so _not_ staring at him.”

Hasbi taps a pen against his lower lip, brows furrowed in concentration. “Mhm, and what is the color of Mas Ghani’s shirt today?”

“White,” Ganda says without hesitation, and Hasbi lets out an exasperated sigh at that.

“Whatever.” The younger man rises to his feet, shoving the papers under his arms. “I have a class in… 5 minutes. And _please_ , for the sake of my sanity, talk to Mas Ghani, ask him out, whatever. I can’t stand _you_ like this.” With a dirty look from above his glasses, Hasbi departs, leaving Ganda looking stumped.

* * *

It’s not like Ganda can’t talk to Zulham, he most definitely can talk to that man, however intimidating he is. He’s just… Ganda scrubs a hand over his face, _tongue-tied_ , because Ghani Zulham is everything that Ganda Hamdan isn’t: cool, suave, quiet, in contrast to Ganda’s brash attitude and loud, booming laughter.

Also, Zulham is handsome, and Ganda has always liked handsome men.

Ganda is 100% sure that Zulham hates him anyway, judging from the way the other man narrows his eyes in disgust when Ganda is around.

And fuck Hasbi, Ganda huffs, defeated. There is no way Ganda could talk to Zulham like━

“Hey,” a voice calls out next to him and Ganda flinches, because it’s

Zulham, standing there with a coat slung over his shoulder. He’s smiling faintly, causing Ganda to freeze, brain short-circuiting. “This seat empty?”

Ganda nods dumbly, tongue too thick in his mouth to even utter a single thing. “Yep,” he manages, and he wants to smack himself in the head for that kind of response.

Zulham, thankfully, only inclines his head before sitting down next to Ganda, sighing to himself. His head is tilted backwards, showing a long line of neck, and because that man never bothered buttoning up his shirt, Ganda’s gaze travels down the hollow of Zulham’s neck and━

“No class today?” Zulham asks, snapping Ganda out of his inappropriate thoughts. _Fuck_ , this is why he can’t talk to Zulham _properly_ ; the man is way too _hot_.

Firmly reminding himself that they’re currently _still_ in the school ground, in the canteen, Ganda offers the other man a small smile. “Later, at 11. Figure I should relax and eat breakfast before going into the warzone.”

Zulham hums, clearly looking amused by his statement, and Ganda feels relief coursing through him. Oh Lord, he makes Zulham _smile_ , albeit just a little twitch on his lips. It’s exhilarating, really, and makes him want to bask in that smile. 

"You're funny," Zulham says, lips forming a wider smile. _Oh Lord_ , Ganda clenches his fist, trying to hold himself back from doing something stupid like holding Zulham's hand. "Why didn't I notice that before?"

Ganda stills, lips pursed. "Well… I've tried to approach you before. But you stare at me with your, uh, sharp, narrow-eyed look so I… back the fuck away," he finishes weakly, shrugging a shoulder. It's not a big deal, really, no hard feelings. Rejection doesn't hurt him, but Zulham looked downright terrifying with his sharp gaze.

"Oh?" Out of all responses that Ganda have expected, _this_ is not one of them. "I apologize," Zulham says, and he has the audacity to look sheepish, "I wasn't wearing my contacts or glasses back then so… I have to squint. My sight isn’t the best."

Ganda reels back at that. _Zulham in thin-rimmed glasses. Zulham pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. Zulham staring at him_ —

"And I was quite sure that you hate me, somehow," Zulham adds with a chuckle, and it forces Ganda to stop thinking about the man in glasses.

"What?" Ganda blinks owlishly because he's _sure_ he doesn't hate Ghani Zulham. "Why?"

Zulham has his brows furrowed and he looks… shifty, shoulders tense. He looks uncomfortable with Ganda's question, but before Ganda could offer an apology, Zulham sighs.

“You look…” For the first time, Zulham appears to be lost in words. His hands flail around and it’s oddly endearing, for a 30 something year old man. Ganda feels his lips twitch into a smile, beyond his control and he quickly wipes a hand over his face before Zulham notices.

“Handsome?” Ganda offers, and lets out a loud chuckle at Zulham’s withering look. _Wow_ , Ganda sighs, feeling breathless all of a sudden. Look at him, joking and laughing with Ghani Zulham, even though the other man is prone to glares rather than laughter.

Zulham rolls his eyes, but he hasn’t moved away so Ganda counts that as a win. “ _Mas_ ,” he sighs, long-drawn and clearly exasperated. “Well… You _are_ handsome—” Ganda’s brain decides to stop working for a moment at that, but he manages to catch what Zulham is saying after that, “—you always looked… stone-faced and silent when I’m around you.”

 _That_ , Ganda thinks, will be quite hard to explain, but he guesses he owes Zulham an explanation.

“I don’t hate you.” At Zulham’s unimpressed look, Ganda merely holds up both hands. That man is insufferable sometimes, a little haughty, but damn if that doesn’t make Ganda want to hug him. ” _RealIy_ , why would I lie to you, Zulham—”

“Ghani,” Zulham—Ghani—interjects, eyes downcasted and _is that a blush on his cheeks_? Before Ganda can call him out on that, Ghani adds, “My name is Ghani. Zulham sounds too formal.”

“Ghani,” Ganda repeats, failing to hold back a smile. “No, I don’t hate you, I swear. I just get nervous sometimes.”

The surprised look that crosses Ghani’s face is not what Ganda has expected. “Nervous? Why would you be nervous?” That narrow-eyed look is there again and rather than in disgust, Ghani appears to be… thinking. “You don’t think I’m scary, don’t you?”

Before Ganda could _think_ , his mouth decides to blurt out, “But you are scary, Ghani Zulham.”

“No, that’s not why—” he quickly adds, when Ghani’s face has taken a murderous edge on it, “it’s just… I get nervous around handsome guys, that’s all.”

The cat’s out of the bag, now. Ganda counts, fingers folding when the number increases, waiting for Ghani to leave. People leave when they know about him, anyway, so this won’t be any different.

His chest constricts painfully, but Ganda has a smile plasted on.

“That’s it?” That exclamation jerks Ganda back to reality; Ghani is still there, sitting next to him with his arm pressed against Ganda’s. His brows are tugged into a frown and, to Ganda’s surprise, he looks… furious. “That’s why you acted like _that_?”

Ghani is so very warm that it distracts Ganda for a moment before he manages to nod his head. “I mean,” he continues dumbly, “I’m usually good at masking it up,” _my attraction towards men,_ Ganda doesn’t say, “by acting like how guy friends usually are but around you… it’s impossible.”

Ganda waits another moment, fingers tapping anxiously against the bench and he’s thankful that the canteen is empty sans for the vendors. Ghani is still staring at him, completely silent and _unmoving_ , as if he’s turned into a statue.

It’s terrifying.

Ganda shifts a little in his seat.

When Ghani finally speaks, it’s soft, with a hint of smile on the corner of his lips. “I see. Well, you shouldn’t be acting like that around me.” A pause, a quiet hum that seems more of a habit than anything. “I’m just like you anyway.”

Ganda doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with that declaration. He’s torn; multitude of feelings roiling up and he knows he’s sweating like a pig under his shirt but he thinks he can be forgiven, especially when facing things like this.

The bell rings, startling both of them from their shared moment. “That’s my cue,” Ghani murmurs, rising to his feet gracefully. He turns around to face Ganda, who has been staring at Ghani with his mouth gaping, not yet recovering from the earlier event.

“I think you _owe_ me a dinner, acting like that around me,” Ghani says mysteriously, eyeing Ganda in what seems like a judging manner. But there is a slight quirk on his lips, and Ganda only nods at that.

“Call.” A pause, because Ghani still hasn’t moved away from him. “I’ll pick you up later? You will be done at 6 PM, right?”

Ghani snorts a chuckle, and that’s when Ganda realizes what he’s saying. “I didn’t memorize your schedule—”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“—and that’s because I—”

“Alright,” Ghani says loudly, cutting Ganda’s unending rambles, “I’ll make a reservation.”

“Don’t be late.” With a flourish gesture, Ghani turns around, wriggling his fingers before he makes his way towards the classroom. _His ass looks amazing_ —

His chest constricts but this time, it’s not painful.

* * *

( After:

“YOU SO OWE ME DINNER,” Hasbi is yelling through the phone, again.

Ganda rolls his eyes as he tucks his shirt in, grabbing a coat after. “I really don't.”

“I _listened_ to you crying about Ghani Zulham when you’re drunk. I have to hear you waxing poetics about him. I deserve some form of appreciation, Ganda Hamdan.”

“Thank you,” Ganda murmurs dryly, heading towards the parking lot to get his car. “Now shut the hell up, I’m going to be late for my date.”

“YOU—”

Ganda cuts the phone call off. He will deal with Hasbi later. Or tomorrow, if he gets lucky. )

**Author's Note:**

> hasbi and ganda are, close somehow??? because their desks are next to each others so ganda is always bothering hasbi lmao ghazul is more like the aide of the headmaster and guess whos the headmaster is. ridwan bahri and dirga utama are there too. can u give me ideas about what classes they teach? thank u <3


End file.
